Millimeter - Thursday

There’s a bullet in my bag

And it tells me what to think

In the middle of the night

When I can’t sleep

There’s a bullet in my bag

Singing sweetly:

«You traded 8 for 35 millimeter

But the trigger slips

The shot goes wide

By a millimeter.»

There’s a body in my bed

Telling me to stand

In the middle of the fire

Where I can’t breathe

There’s a body in my bed

Sleeping softly

Then the day comes on

And something’s off

A millimeter

Sometimes close is not close enough:

Millimeter

When the numbers are run

The measure’s off a millimeter

We run for miles to come up short

By a millimeter